The Murder Rule(79)

Sam turned to him. “I . . . I think so.”

“Can you tel me when we’re getting close? I’m going to speed up. Try to get past it before . . . before he can do anything.”

“You think he’s going to push us over the edge.”

“I think he might try.”

Sam turned his attention back to the road. Sean could hear his breathing even with the rattle of stones against the car and the noise of the engines.

“We’re close,” Sam said, tightly.

It was a bad place to speed up. The slope was steep and the road in terrible condition. Sean gripped the steering wheel hard and put his foot to the accelerator, but even before the car could respond the truck engine behind them was roaring and the car jerked forward as the truck made contact, ramming them once, then again. The car skidded and slid and nearly hit a tree but Sean managed to get it back on the road and then the truck hit again. The car was now careening down the hil , far too fast. Every time Sean came close to regaining control the truck hit them again.

“It’s right there,” Sam said. “The cliff is right there.”

The road ran straight ahead, downward, and at the bottom of the slope only a few saplings stood between them and the drop. Sean hit the brakes, turned into his skid, and waited for the almighty jerk as Pierce’s truck hit them again. It didn’t happen. Instead they heard a car horn blaring from behind them. Sam turned.

“It’s Granddad! He’s coming behind Pierce.”

The horn blared again and again and Pierce dropped back and Sean final y, final y managed to control the car and leaned hard on the brakes, trying to make the turn. The car was skidding sideways by the time they hit the bottom of the slope, but it had slowed enough that when he leaned on the accelerator again he was able to pul the car forward out of the skid. They avoided the cliff’s edge, and the little car rattled most of the way around the corner before hitting a bump and coming off the road and to a complete stop. Sam and Sean turned at the same time to see what was happening behind them.

Jerome Pierce’s black truck came to a stop wel back from the edge of the cliff. A moment later the red truck pul ed in just behind it and Sam’s grandfather climbed out. With speed and strength that Sean wouldn’t have expected, given his age, Sam Senior stalked toward Pierce’s truck, opened the driver’s door, and, grabbing Pierce by the col ar of his shirt, pul ed him out of the car. The next minute the two men were pushing and shoving, gesticulating.

“Jesus,” said Sam. “Go, Granddad.” They watched for a moment, stil in shock, then Sam reached for the door handle. “I need to go and help him,” he said.

“No,” said Sean. “We have to go, right now.”

Sam stared at him.

“Think about it. If we go, there’s a good chance Pierce wil fol ow.

Your granddad is giving us a head start. And if Pierce thinks there’s a chance we’re going to get away, he can’t do anything too terrible here or he’l go to prison for it. If we get out of the car and go back, then there’s nothing to stop him from pul ing the gun on al three of us. We need to go, Sam.”

“You go. I’m going back.”

“Sam, please.” Sean glanced over his shoulder. “Look,” he said.

Pierce had left Samuel Senior standing in the dirt and was climbing back into his truck. “We have to go. We have to go now.”

Sam hesitated for one more minute, then nodded. Sean drove, expecting al the time that Pierce’s truck would catch them on the road, that the whole wretched process would start al over again. But they didn’t see him again and were left to wonder if Sam Senior had managed to stop him, or if he’d cal ed off the chase. The idea of the latter was less reassuring than it should have been.

“He could cal ahead,” Sam said, when they final y reached the main route and felt safe enough to talk again. “To Yorktown, I mean.

He knows that’s where we’re headed.”

“He could,” Sean said. “But two can play that game. We’re going to change cars before we get there.” He picked up his phone, spirits soaring. They were in this game now, and they were going to win it.





Hannah

NINETEEN

Hannah did sleep, eventual y. She’d fal en asleep sometime after three A.M. and she woke with the sun streaming in through the windows. Slowly, stil a little disoriented, she climbed out of bed and went to the shower. Sometime after midnight she had begun to hatch a plan. She tested the idea in the hard light of day. It was stil deeply risky and probably incredibly stupid, but real y, she didn’t have a choice.

Hannah left Charlottesvil e at eight A.M. and reached Yorktown at ten. She drove down Bal ard Street, away from the courthouse and out through town toward Lafayette Road, where Sam Fitzhugh had said the family home of Sheriff Jerome Pierce was located. She stopped at the hardware store along the way, asked directions, and bought herself a crowbar. They had pay-as-you-go phones behind the cash register and she bought one of those too. Lafayette Road was a short, pretty, tree-lined avenue with beautiful homes. Sam hadn’t mentioned the exact address, so Hannah parked the car, put on her best smile, and knocked on the door of the very first house on the street. An older man—salt-and-pepper hair, handsome—came to the door.

“Help you?” he asked.